


redemption requiem

by izadreamer



Series: earn your happy ending [3]
Category: Tangled (2010), Tangled: The Series (Cartoon)
Genre: Brother-Sister Relationships, Enemies to Friends, Families of Choice, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Friendship, Future Fic, Gen, Good Things Finally Happen for Varian, Happy Ending, Redemption, a true Disney ending, for once in his life, this is so fluffy guys its basically just happy times all around
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-04
Updated: 2018-08-04
Packaged: 2019-06-21 11:44:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,335
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15556980
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/izadreamer/pseuds/izadreamer
Summary: On the day Rapunzel is crowned Queen of Corona, Varian finally comes home.





	redemption requiem

**Author's Note:**

> This story directly follows my fic _daybreak of the victor_! You can probably understand this story without it, but it does provide some good context. (Additionally, it is part of a series of happy ending fics— all of which you can find [here!!](https://archiveofourown.org/series/1030208) ) 
> 
> I hope you enjoy!!

They make a game of it, probably because otherwise it felt far too depressing for Rapunzel to just tell Varian to hide in the bushes until the coronation.

In hindsight, it is a very dumb game, and not at all advisable, but Rapunzel was perhaps a bit tipsy and Varian perhaps a bit drunk on happiness, hearing what he just had, so both of them thought it was rather clever, at the time. Hide in the crowd under the guards’ noses, see if they could spy each other without the guards catching them. Like I-Spy, only with Varian as the ‘I-spy’ object, and with a constant looming threat of possible arrest if he got caught.

Testimony to their momentary idiocy: both of them thought the whole thing hilariously brilliant.

Their (silly, stupid, sad) plan was thus decided upon. Varian pulled Rudiger out of the bushes (by that time, the raccoon had eaten half of some poor gardener’s carnations, and Varian made a mental note to apologize), Rapunzel fussed with his coat and firmly vetoed his goggles (“They glow green in the dark, Varian, it is near three in the morning, you will be noticed, for the love of the Sun, no,”) and by the time very early morning rolled around, only an hour out to sunrise, Rapunzel was back to dancing in the main hall and Varian was skulking about the gardens.

In the hours since their conversation, Varian thinks, the game has lost some of its charm to him. At first he had been giddy at the idea of hiding in plain sight, but now he just feels anxious. Years upon years of living under the radar makes even the slightest threat of exposure ten times more frightening than it has any right to be.

There are fewer guards here then there would be in the main halls of the castle, but they are still patrolling. One wanders by in Varian’s direction, eyes moving blindly out over the crowd, and Varian hisses out through his teeth. He knows this guard, recognizes his face— which means the guard will know him, too.

Varian ducks behind a potted plant to avoid him, ducking low beneath the bush. He wishes absently for his old height—  time has made him taller (taller than Rapunzel, finally, hah) but this is not always a blessing.

Thankfully, the bush and general darkness hides him well from the guard. When the man and the danger he poses finally passes by, Varian edges out from behind the plant, knees cramping. One quick scan across the path, and then he fast-walks his way to a far wall, instead. More people, more noise, and he is out of sight in this dark corner, hidden between the shadows of the garden and the shadows of the main city square, crammed full of people.

Varian grits his teeth, relieved at the seclusion, knowing it can’t last. The guards are more numbered here, but he can avoid their gaze easily once he slips into the main crowd. The trouble is getting _into_ the crowd. As he thinks, Varian tugs his coat hood up over his head more securely, Rudiger chittering at his shoulder.

“Shh, not so loud,” Varian mumbles back, and raises one hand to rub nervously at his left ear. The skin on his old wound is healed over and smooth to the touch, and it has become a bad habit of his, to run his finger over the unnatural dip and edges of his torn ear whenever he feels stressed.

Rudiger certainly doesn’t like it, and in response, Varian gets a face-full of raccoon tail. He spits out fur with a disgusted grimace, and drops his hand back to his side.

“Think we should duck out, buddy?”

That gets him another whack of the tail, and a load of concerned crooning. Varian sighs. Yeah, that’d be a no. Not that he blames Rudiger—  it’d be kind of an asshole move to abandon the party before Rapunzel even gets crowned.

He’ll just have to risk it, Varian decides. He and Rapunzel have had worse ideas and carried out terrible plans before; his nineteenth birthday comes to mind. Avoiding the guards in a party of this size, at this time of night? Varian is being paranoid over nothing.

“Moon help me,” he murmurs, casting a look up at the sky. The moon shines merrily back. He can’t quite tell if that’s a good omen or not.

Varian peeks his head out from behind the wall, watching the swell and fall of the crowd. At last the dance and celebration rise up, hands thrusting into the air, cups held high in a toast. In that moment, Varian slips out from behind the wall and makes his way towards the balcony.

As soon as he enters the fray, Varian goes stiff. He can’t hear any cries for his arrest, but then, he can’t hear much over this roaring crowd. A dancer spins so close their elbows brush; strangers corner him in at every side. Varian’s breath hitches, his heart racing. Surely they can see his face, Varian thinks, feeling numb. Surely they know—

But no-one gives him a second glance, and Varian slowly relaxes, rapid breaths easing into something more natural. Of course. Of course not. Only the guards remember Varian, remember his true name and face. Corona knows only the Alchemist, faceless and unseen, muttered about in the distance. He is anonymous, he is no-one, he is safe.

His confidence bolstered, Varian edges his way into the main city square. He cannot see into the castle anymore, but he knows where Rapunzel will give her speech, and he wants to be as close as possible, as close as he can dare to be. This is Rapunzel’s big moment, this is her final step, and after everything they have been through, well... She deserves it. Varian cannot stand by her side, but he can be there for her— hidden in the crowd, and maybe if she looks hard enough, she will see him there.

He hopes she does. Rapunzel has done so much for him. The least Varian can give his sister is this.

He gets a few dirty looks for his intrusion, but no-one pushes him back, and no-one calls him out. There is too much goodwill in the air and too much wine in their bellies. The sun is soon to rise, and with it, the dawn of a new kingdom. As the sun crests those far-off hills, Rapunzel will be crowned Queen of Corona.

As the crowd settles around him, hiding him from the watchful eyes of the guards by virtue of sheer numbers, Varian slowly relaxes. He pats a restless and excited Rudiger on the head, and pulls back his hood to breathe better, reveling in the joy he can almost taste in this early morning air. The night wind is brisk and cool on his face, the spring breeze a relief from the oppressive heat of the crowd.

Varian shuffles forward to see better, checking his place among them. He is standing just far enough from the balcony to see where Rapunzel will stand, by one of the twisting staircases. When she exits, newly crowned, he will be close enough to see the embroidery on her ceremonial cloak.

The recklessness makes him sigh; the sentiment makes him smile. Usually commoners would not be able to come so close to royalty, especially on such a grand occasion. In any other kingdom, it would be other royals here, nobles and ministers and governors clustered at the new Queen’s feet. Rapunzel had insisted otherwise.

“It’s all right if the other kingdoms want to come,” she had said. “But this isn’t for them. It’s for Corona. It’s for the people. They should have the right to be there with me, not swept off to the sides.”

A terrible sentiment, but Varian cannot help but smile at the memory, even now. Rapunzel may be a princess, but she is not her father, nor is she any like any monarch that has come before her. For all the trouble this might cause, it is a quality of Rapunzel’s that Varian cannot help but admire. Even as a child, he had looked up to her for that, for treating him as an equal rather than a subject.

As the sky slowly lightens, turning from black-blue to a pale blue-and-gold, foreshadowing the sun soon to rise, the crowd shifts and murmurs, voices rising in excitement. Inside the castle, Rapunzel is being crowned. Any one of these seconds is the second in which a new Queen is born. Any moment could be the moment where she steps out to speak.

Varian pushes a hand through his tangled mess of hair, teeth worrying at his lower lip. It is easy to feel excited, to be drawn into the swelling cheer. The anticipation in the air is so thick it almost seems to have a physical weight. His restless eyes search the balcony, waiting for someone, _anyone,_ to step through.

At long last, the doors open.

It is Cassandra who steps out first—dressed in golden armor and wielding a shining ceremonial sword, marking her both Captain of the Guard and the Queen’s own protector. Her sharp eyes scan the crowd, her face stoic. She searches them for threats one final time, before she steps back, bowing low, ushering the new Queen through.

The crowd falls into a buzzing hush.

Rapunzel steps out with her head held high. One hand is looped around the arm of her husband, the new Prince Consort, while the other rests regally by her side. Eugene is smiling, pride and love for his wife bright in his eyes; Rapunzel herself is just barely not beaming.

She is radiant, truly radiant, shining in a way the echoes the Sundrop flowing through her veins. Her short dark hair has been trimmed shorter, from a spiky bob to a trim pixie cut, the bangs swept back to expose her face. It makes her hair look darker, her face sharper and more angled, lends her gaze weight and wisdom. She is dressed in a sweeping coronation gown of gold and pale yellow-white, red thread bordering elaborate designs, all the colors associated with the Sun. Atop her head rests a delicate crown inlaid with the most precious jewels in the kingdom, glittering like a star, its pale gold spires twisting up like a coiled wire.

On her neck thereon lies a simple necklace—blue ribbon, a worn Sun crest—the mark of Corona’s monarchy, the mark of Corona. Proof of her royal blood, and proof of Rapunzel’s new title.

No longer a Princess, but instead a Queen.

The kingdom _roars._ Feet stamp, hands clap, voices all raised in a clamor as the people celebrate her arrival. They love her, every last one of them. She has stolen the hearts of all her people and Varian can hear their love in the way they cheer for her, in their joyous celebration and ear-splitting cries of adoration.

His ears ache, but Varian ignores the discomfort, grinning so widely he thinks his face might break. He can see Rapunzel blink back at the praise, almost stumble, her cheeks flushing red at the response to her arrival. A moment of hesitation, and then she catches herself, draws herself tall. She is beaming, blinking fast.

Varian cups his hands around his mouth and yells with the rest, cackling internally at the embarrassed and pleased look on Rapunzel’s face, the joy brimming in her eyes. She has been nervous about this, Varian knows, has paced around for days and has, according to Cassandra, practiced her speech to the point of saying it in her sleep. To see this, to know that her kingdom loves her with all their heart and soul—he thinks it must be magical.

At long last, the cheer fades, ebbing away into a murmur, the people waiting to see what she will do. As if on cue, Rapunzel lets go of Eugene’s arm, stepping closer, drawing to the lip of balcony. She casts her gaze across them all, seeing no-one, seeing everyone.

The murmur rises, grows louder, tense with anticipation. Rapunzel locks her hands before her, takes a breath— and bows.

Rapunzel bows to the crowd, to her people, her head held steady so that crown will not fall, her back a perfect arch. Her hands curl close to her heart, her eyes closed and face serene. It is a low bow, the kind of bow one would never expect of a monarch, and the sight of it makes the whole crowd go absolutely silent, still as trees and so quiet Varian can hear the wind whistling softly through the streets.

Rapunzel holds the bow for a good few moments—longer than is proper for any royal—and then finally straightens out of it. She meets their stunned eyes with a soft smile.

“I know,” says Rapunzel, “that it is not proper for a monarch to bow before her subjects.”

Her voice rings clearly in the silence, soft in tone but strong in spirit. She speaks as the Queen she is—casting out her voice for all to hear, and yet, no strain apparent in her words. Each word is crystal-clear and solid, each line delivered with an even tone.

“But I feel here that it is warranted,” Rapunzel continues. Her eyes trail across the masses, the people of her kingdom. “I would not be here if not for you. I would not stand here today, as your Queen, if not for you—Corona, my people, my beloved kingdom.”

She smiles, then, soft and sudden, a smile gentle and full of love. “After all,” she says warmly, “it was not a single lantern that guided me home all those years ago. No—it was thousands upon thousands. It was your lanterns, your light, that shone through my window each year, your love that gave me a dream, that dream that… that has led me here.”

Varian can see the effect these words have on the people, the red in their cheeks and the glowing smiles on their faces. His smile stretches wide at the sight, laughter curling in his chest.

“I am lucky to be here,” Rapunzel says. “And I am _honored_ to be your Queen. I swear to do good by you. The gifts you have given to me—a second chance, a dream, a new life, love and warmth and happiness—I swear to do all in power to give these same gifts to you. As you have lifted me up, so I will lift you. It is the least I can do, with this life that you all have given to me.”

She steps closer, one last time, so close that her dress brushes the railings. “I bow to you,” she says, “to show you my thanks. And to show you my loyalty. After all—what good is a Queen, without a kingdom?” Her smile is crooked, knowing, warm with affection. “Thank you, Corona. I promise to serve you faithfully until the end.”

At these words, she stops, and bows her head again. It is not as low as before, not a bow of gratitude but a bow of respect, and at this sight the crowd erupts once more. They cheer for her, laugh for her, cry for her—in their eyes is an adoration that has already existed, a love that she has only secured in full with her words here today, with her honest admission and her heartfelt emotion.

Varian laughs in half-disbelief and wipes at his eyes. He had not heard her speech before this moment, he had not known what she planned. He feels giddy, like a million bubbles are trapped in his chest. Her words have gripped him as tightly as they have the rest of the kingdom.

“Bravo, Princess,” Varian murmurs, and steps back. Now that Rapunzel’s speech is over, he has no more reason to be here. The crowd will soon clear, and so will he. “And congratulations.”

She cannot hear him, but he feels better to have said it. He steps away into the crowd, preparing to vanish and leave with no-one the wise—and then he pauses.

Rapunzel has not left the balcony.

In fact, Varian realizes suddenly, she hasn’t moved an inch. Behind her, the guards are restless, shooting glances between each other. On one side of the balcony, the former King and Queen are frowning at their daughter. Only Cassandra and Eugene look unsurprised, but—Varian does not think this was scripted. This is not what Rapunzel is supposed to be doing, so… what _is_ she doing?

As if she can hear his thoughts, Rapunzel finally acts, raising one hand in a bid for quiet. With a confused murmur, the crowd obeys, conversation trailing off into an uncertain silence.

“I am sorry,” Rapunzel says, when their eyes have turned back to her. “But there is one more thing I must do. A wrong I must right as soon as I am able.”

The confusion grows, swells into a question, a mutter rippling across the crowd. Rapunzel smiles at their unease, a faint and knowing sort of gentleness to her face.

Down below, Varian stares up at her, confusion and surprise twisting like a coiled serpent in his gut. He does not understand. He _cannot_ understand.

Rapunzel turns and meets his eyes. A hundred people on this square, all clustered there beneath her feet, a hundred people or more standing before her. And yet, her eyes find his as if she has known where he was all along.

Varian stares back, too stunned to respond, his breath caught in his throat.

“Varian of Old Corona,” she says clearly, and the crowd mutters in confusion, “son of Quirin, known by your epithet ‘the Alchemist’—”

At this the confusion turns to shock. Voices cry out, people physically recoiling from her words, grabbing their loved ones and children close to their sides. Varian shrinks back, his heart shriveling, any words he might have said strangled in his chest.

“You have been wanted all these years,” Rapunzel continues loudly, raising her voice above the crowd. Her eyes never leave Varian. Despite her strong words, her expression is soft, her eyes kind. “—For the aiding and abetting of other criminals who have attacked this kingdom in the past decade, two counts of direct high treason against the former King and the Kingdom of Corona itself, kidnapping, theft, attempted regicide, and four counts of attempted murder.”

Varian swallows hard, his vision swimming, his blood roaring in his ears. He thinks he might be sick. He wants nothing more than to run, to hide. He wants to flee this square and this crowd before the people realize where Rapunzel is looking and turn on him.

For an instant, he almost gives in, almost runs.

At the last moment, his fear like a knife dug deep in his gut, he meets Rapunzel’s eyes and forces his feet still. It takes everything he has to swallow back his fear, to hold still in that dangerous crowd. It takes everything he is not to hide away.

No. No, Varian won’t run. He trusts her.

Rapunzel smiles sadly at the look on his face. Her eyes are understanding, grateful. She knows exactly what she’s done, and she knows how much it scares him. In her eyes, he can see her relief that he has stayed regardless.

“Today,” Rapunzel says gently, her eyes soft, speaking to Varian alone though her words are heard by all, “I pardon you on all charges.”

Immediately the crowd erupts into protest. Voices cry out, bodies shifting, trying to find whoever it is she is talking to. Some see her fixed gaze, one or two look at him. Their eyes go wide and fearful, and Varian curls into himself, heart lodged in his throat.

“I pardon you,” Rapunzel says, “because you have _earned it_.” At this her voice goes cold, sharp with disappointment, and she pulls her eyes away to cast a pointed glance at the crowd. They wince at the sting of her disapproval, and their complaints slowly die.

“You have served this kingdom faithfully for many years,” Rapunzel continues, when at last the discord has died down. “You have shown regret for your past crimes, and most important of all—you have worked tirelessly to correct them. You have used your exile in service of Corona, infiltrating her enemies and seeking out to stop threats before they hurt innocent people.”

The citizens of Corona have gone absolutely silent. Their faces are blank and stunned, slow understanding creeping into their wide eyes.

Rapunzel turns away from them, looks back to Varian once more. This time when she smiles, it is wide and bright, beaming with joy. “Varian,” she says kindly, and then, softer still, “Little brother. You have made your father proud.”

Varian rocks back on his heels. He can’t breathe. He feels as if all the air has been stolen from his lungs, leaving him breathless and shaking. He blinks quickly, but he can’t stop the tears welling up in his eyes. He had told Rapunzel once, years ago, of that desperate wish, forever unattained. To hear those words, even now, years after he thought he’d outgrown them—

He brings up his glove and bites down hard on the leather, squeezing his eyes shut, trying not to cry. He is shaking head to toe. His eyes are burning. There is an ache in his chest, a hollow pit in his heart years old—finally filled, finally completed, finally healed at long last.

“I pardon you,” Rapunzel repeats, and when Varian finally opens his eyes again it is to see her smiling, her eyes as teary as his own. “You are absolved of your past mistakes; you have overcome them through your own power and your own choices, and I could not be prouder. This moment, I wish to share with you.”

She stretches out her hand to him and Varian stares up at her, uncomprehending. “As I have been crowned Queen at this sunrise,” she says, no longer so regal, her voice trembling with barely restrained emotion, her smile bursting at the seams, “so will I crown you. From this moment on you will be my Royal Alchemist, my honorary brother. You will forever have a place in my court and at my side, so long as you shall wish it.” 

Slowly yet surely, the crowd parts for him. Varian steps forward and the people move back. The guards grip their halberds and the people hold their breath, but no-one moves, no-one reacts. They do not dare, not with Rapunzel’s words ringing clear in their ears, her pardon and her joy and her forgiveness quelling their fear and their hate. Their eyes follow him, suspicious and uncertain—but they do not attack, and Varian walks through the square, steps up those balcony steps, walks to Rapunzel’s side without any intrusion.

For all his earlier fear, at this moment he feels suddenly fearless. Maybe it is Rapunzel’s hand, outstretched, welcoming him home. Maybe it is Cassandra’s knowing smile, her quiet nod of acknowledgment. Maybe it is Eugene’s look of pride, his crooked grin. Or maybe it is the words said only moments ago, the words still echoing in his ears, that chase his doubts and his anxieties away.

He takes Rapunzel’s hand and squeezes her palm tightly, and she smiles at him with all the warmth of the sun. Behind him the crowd starts to cheer—slowly, tentatively, one by one. They look unsure of how to feel, but know their Queen is happy, and perhaps that is enough, for now.

“I’m sorry,” Rapunzel says lowly, for his ears alone. “I—I didn’t want to call you out in front of everyone, but it was the only way I could think of, to make myself clear—and I didn’t want you to wait, and—”

Varian, for once, does not care. He swallows back another wave of tears and whispers, “Did you mean it?”

Rapunzel blinks at him. “Did I mean…?”

“What—what you said, about… about making my dad proud, did you—?”

“ _Oh,_ ” Rapunzel says, and then she smiles. She tugs on his hand, pulling him forward, leaning up to press a soft kiss to his forehead. “Oh, Varian. Of course I did. Of course. Every word. He would be so, so proud of you. I know _I_ am.”

This time he doesn’t fight the tears, doesn’t even bother to wipe them away. “That was a really dramatic speech you gave there,” he whispers back, and Rapunzel laughs. She takes no offense from his words; the truth is she knows what he is really trying to say.

“You’re welcome,” she replies, eyes shining, and then— “Welcome home, Varian.”

He smiles back at her and pulls away. He settles to her side, just behind her, a guard and friend all in one. The morning sun shines soft and gentle on his face, light creeping up over the horizon, beating back the cold wind, chasing away the dark night.

Varian faces the sun and blinks the tears from his eyes. “Thank you, Queen Rapunzel,” he murmurs in her ear, and then he steps back. The world is her stage once more, his moment ended, and hers just beginning.

This will not be the end of it, Varian knows. Her speech has solved one issue and created many others. But Varian is here, standing among them, Rudiger on his shoulder and friends by his side, and he trusts Rapunzel. He trusts her, and her promise, and the love in her eyes as she called him to her side.

The future is blind to him, unknown and uncontrollable. But Varian is not facing it alone, and that is all that has ever mattered.

 _Home,_ Varian thinks, and smiles bright at the sunrise. Home at last.

**Author's Note:**

> I struggled a lot with this, mostly ‘cause I’m a little uncertain about total happy endings of this nature? And for Varian, I think, a happy ending for him isn’t so much being part of the gang, as it is just being _happy_. But I feel, when Rapunzel rises to the throne, by that time he and the others have moved on and grown up enough that he can become apart of their inner circle. Kinda like, a new stage of his life, y’know? By this point he’s already been completely redeemed and re-accepted in their circle, and he’s eased his guilt enough that he no longers feel compelled to try and work himself to the bone to prove his trustworthiness. He’s okay. He’s doing just fine. So, clearly, life had to get exciting and new for him again, ahaha.
> 
> I debated for a while on how the pardon would go, or take place. I finally decided Rapunzel… well, she probably wouldn’t want to wait. Plus, risky and nerve-wracking Rapunzel’s public pardon may have been for Varian, it was a deliberate choice, and a pretty good way of ensuring protection for him. The guards and people may know that Varian is a former criminal— but they also know that he is pardoned, he has favor with the Queen, he’s fought for them, etc, etc. Because its a public pardon, the (now former) King can’t try and hush it up or quietly revoke it, since it’d create a mess of bad PR. Rapunzel may have outed Varian as former villain, but in the same motion she pardoned him, invited him to her court, and praised his actions for Corona. Plus, that kiss on the forehead? She’s called him little brother and proved it. It’s just about the best protection Varian can get, because seriously, who wants to upset Queen Rapunzel? They love her! And they trust her, both of which work in Varian’s favor.
> 
> For Rapunzel— I’ve always imagined her with a pixie cut at some point. The bob is cute, but not very queenly to me, if that makes sense? Also, as a Queen... She is totally going to overthrow and recreate Corona’s criminal justice system. Both the situation with Attila, Varian, even Eugene’s would-be execution from the movie just for stealing a crown…. Rapunzel is going to do justice, guys, and god damn she’s going to do it well. 
> 
> [If you wanna rec this fic, you can reblog it here!!](http://izaswritings.tumblr.com) Also, if you have any questions or just want to talk, [my tumblr](http://izaswritings.tumblr.com) is always open!!
> 
> Any thoughts?


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